


Quiet as the Snow

by janetthetrigger



Category: 15th Century CE RPF, The Sunne in Splendour - Sharon Kay Penman, The White Queen (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, Fluff, History, One Shot Collection, War of the Roses, happiness
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-29
Updated: 2014-11-05
Packaged: 2018-02-19 06:34:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 1,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2378405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/janetthetrigger/pseuds/janetthetrigger
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They lived together, even when they were apart. (One shot collection)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cinderella

**Author's Note:**

> ANONYMOUS SAID: PROMPT? RICHARD FINALLY FINDS ANNE AFTER SHE HAD VANISHED FROM HIS BROTHERS HOME.  
> Rated: K+
> 
> Note: I am a hopeless romantic at heart and the myth surrounding Richard finding Anne locked in a bakery has won me over. Probably not true to real life, but rather beautiful all the same. Thank you for letting me indulge!

He has promised Anne.

He had given his word to look out for her interests and if Richard was known for anything it was being a man of his word. Loyaulte me lie.

It branded him. Anne’s trust. Born from years of affection and the knowledge that perhaps they would never truly be together, not for his grudging self-serving family or her traitorously greedy family. If he could do one thing for her, it would be to win her freedom. He would go against his brother George.

If he could do one thing for himself, in his own honor… loving her.

Years of shared glances, drawn in by those innocently captivating eyes. Neither of them had known what to do with the growing feelings when they were young and the sting of obligation had melted hope, stuffed deep where no one could find it. A candle under a bowl. Burning bright in the darkness.

She is seated by the window, her own candle flickering in the sill as she turns to look at him. Warm light dances across her eyes as he realizes this is the exact light he had seen shining in the window as he had rode in to find her, stabs him with unrequited sentiments as he notices the dirt and tears streaking her face.

George has done her wrong.

Isabel has done her wrong.

Her parents have done her wrong.

But he will not do Anne wrong.

Richard will not leave her here, tucked amongst barrels of flour and sitting beside cinders.

He bows to her, hand over his heart in fealty. Pledges with silent words that he will be her sworn protector as he glances up at her.

The long months crash in her chest, catch in her breath as she feels the anticipation of this moment fill her with kindled hope. Clothed in borrowed servant garb and hidden by filth, Anne stands to receive Richard. He has endowed her with the rank of Lady, as none have done for her since George locked her away.

Chin high and confident grace finally returning, she steps forth to place a hand upon his hair. Something she has wished to do since she was young, curly dark hair, feather soft in her fingers. Now, she feels grown up, feels in his wholehearted gaze that he has grown up. She swallows thickly.

He straightens, letting her hand drift into his as his heart fills. They have spent so many years denying themselves and obliging others. Lips descend into her palm.

A peacefulness surrounds them, coats them with new beginnings.


	2. A Shared Burden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Shared Burden  
> Rating: T  
> They shared his disfigurement, Anne would not have it any other way.

She was the only one who knew completely about his injury, knew that he was loyal and decisive because he was observant, he was constantly aware of himself and how others viewed him, and because he wanted to be treated exactly how he treated others.

In time, she learned to be just as observant, especially when it came to him.

No one else was watching out for Richard’s health the way Anne was, she saw the little cringes and shoulder rolls he tried so hard to hide. Anne saw him comfortable when laying down, relaxed and bare. Learned how to lighten the heavy burden of his own insecurities.

Their relationship was based upon a high mutual respect and a joining of interests, he watched and protected her and she did the same for him.

Difficulty sleeping was a frequent struggle for Richard, she awoke when he turned over or when he got out of bed. In the beginning he tried so hard not to disturb her. Groggy and disorientated, she was confused and concerned, resting unsure hands on his face as his voice cracked with apology. Through the pain he tried to push her hands away but she wanted to help, longed to help him.

“I am inadequate.” He answered, turning away from her and caging his face with shaking hands.

Impulsively, she kissed him right in the middle of his pained spine, hands resting on either side.

A shuttered breath, he looked back toward her. With the growing days of their marriage, Anne learned why she had developed an unconscious but fiercely protective sense of him early in life, when they were both young and he spent many long hours training. His struggle revealed itself the more time they spent alone together, what the deep dark of his eyes had been hiding for as long as she had known him.

It was a plunge Anne took deliberately and wholeheartedly, to accept Richard as he was.

Sometimes she would just talk him to sleep, telling him what she loved about Middleham, stories about Isabel, her favorite gown from the season, anything. Sometimes he talked her to sleep, stories about brotherhood and war. The delicacy that men often felt for a woman’s fragility was dismissed in Richard, he did not hide the truth from her and Anne would not have had it any other way.

He did not like to mention his ailment. Anne would fall asleep watching his pacing and shoulder stretches.

Sleepless nights were hard on both of them, but Anne was Richard’s wife and it was a burden they shared. She knew the most difficult nights and helped him escape court dinners when she saw his fluttering eyes and drifting chin.

They would retire to their rooms and she wordlessly undressed and tucked him into bed, hands rubbing light circles over the protruding right side of his back as he lay on his stomach. She rang for chilled water, and wet a cloth to help cool his tired muscles.

“Thank you, my love.” Muffled by the blankets underneath him and breathy with exhaustion, Richard sighed deeply.

He was beautiful and vulnerable. She would protect this side of him fiercely, if called upon. If he wanted to hide this, she would do anything she could to conceal it. He had entrusted her with this secret and nothing would cause her to hurt him by breaking his trust.


	3. Quiet as the Snow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Quiet as the Snow  
> Rated: K+  
> Richard surprises Anne with a visit from court.
> 
> Note: There are a lot of inaccuracies in this, but darn it! I wanted to write my fluff and so to heck will all that. I had in mind that Edward sent Richard on a task of sorts that took him closer to Warwick and that’s why he could get to Anne in a day of riding. Also, Anne Neville’s birthday is June 11, just to prove I have done some of my research.

Pulled into the alcove, Anne nearly screamed before perceiving who had snatched her.

“Shh.” The lamplight warmed his face, played shadows across the finger he held against his lips.

“Richard? I thought you were in court until next month.”

She flushed as he trailed a knuckle over her cheek, mischief dazzling in blue eyes.

Even after the few months they had been married, she still felt rising warmth from his indulgent gaze, still wasn’t used to being adored. Her fear was that her marriage to Lancaster had forever scarred her, would deny Richard the sentiments she so longed to return. These moments of unrestraint gave her hope for their future happiness.

“Happy birthday, Anne.”

Hushed and confused, “My birthday is not for many months.”

“Does a husband need a reason to celebrate his wife’s birthday?”

“Usually her birthdate, yes.”

Anne was treated to an uncommon wide grin, involuntarily she beamed back, felt as if they were co-conspirators, “Why are we whispering?”

“Dearest Anne, I rode near all day to see you and I do not wish to spend even a moment on anyone but your company.”

“You are in good spirits.”

“I see you are bent on spoiling my mood,” he leaned away, appraising, “Perhaps I should return to Edward.”

“No!” Cried as she reached to grip his arms, amended her volume before continuing, “This is just a surprise.”

“It’s snowing.”

Abruptly, Richard tugged her towards the nearest window, glanced around to see if he had been detected, “First snowfall this season.”

Thin white wisps coated the ground in sparkling flakes, fell from the heavens in fat lumps drifting lazily. Underneath the moonlight, the ground nearly glowed.

Anne watched his eyebrows rise, the promise of expectation, “Dickon, we will catch cold.”

“For once,” a gloom evened his expression unexpectedly, slackened his hold on her hands, “I’d like to pretend…”

In silence they stared, Anne gauging his unspoken words and Richard unable to voice them. Finally she looked down to their fingers, ran her hand over his as she smiled, “I do love snow.”

Before she could give further comment, he whisked her down the hall and out the side door into the garden.

Nowhere near packing snow, they made do with pretending the sprays of white they aimed at each other were snowballs. Anne remembered this, remembered her attempts to outsmart all the Warwick wards at snowball fights, remembered scoldings about catching cold and being ladylike. 

The pair fell down beside each other in exhaustion when they had finished off the thin layer of snow surrounding them, no clear winner and easily abandoned.

“If there were enough snow, I would ask you to lay so I might have an imprint of you for when you are gone.”

Richard sighed, felt for her hand as he closed his eyes, “I could never be content with just an imprint of you.”

Anne smiled after a contented silence, stood to help pull him up from the ground, breath still heavy, “Let us dry off.”

They raced for the door and nearly collided in their attempts to get inside, shushed each other like misbehaving school children as they snuck through dark hallways. Richard held fast to Anne’s waist, once in a while leaned down to kiss her as she tried to maneuver them to their rooms without detection. Muffled laughter loud in the near empty halls.

Seated across from each other on the floor before the fire, Anne played with his fingers, “Will you have to return?”

He leaned over to kiss her once again, rested his forehead against hers, “He has extended my trip, I am to be away longer than he originally promised.”

Instead of dwelling on the incoming separation, Anne curled a finger shyly in the damp hair at his neck, “This was the very best birthday present.”


	4. Bound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bound  
> Rated: K  
> Summary: He rescues her at the Battle of Tewkesbury before she realizes that Edward is dead.
> 
> Note: I should just admit that historical fact is nothing to my romantic notions. Who needs fact? Anyway, just something I scrawled in 5 minutes because NaNoWriMo and work is stealing all my time. (please let me know if there are mistakes)

She stared into his eyes, heart rigged into it’s tightly wound cage, the past year of hiding it all heavy in her chest. Weighed down as she pulled her eyes from his, gazed down to his sword hand, positioned carefully along the handle of his weapon.

Gloved.

She wanted them naked, wanted to know that his hands looked exactly as she remembered. Exactly as she had tried not to picture every time she had a moment to herself. Strong but delicate, he had often hid them from his brothers’ teasing. The long, thin fingers had been adept at peeling her Christmas oranges and holding tightly to hers as they ran through crowded castle hallways.

His hand tightened, shifted as the men around her dissipated, disappointed that they had been interrupted. 

A sob collided with her lips, held firmly behind confidence and obligation. Her life was not her own. His hands needed to be farther from her thoughts. It was simple to banish his face and his kindness from the gnawing that ate at her entire being, told her that her happiness was an impossibility even now. Especially now. But it was a feat of her utmost control to try to forget the little details, the tiny scar on his nose, his favorite pair of shoes, and his relaxed fingers. 

She breathed, lifted her chin to look at him again, called forth her self control like a shroud. 

She knew exactly how many days it had been since she had seen him.

But she was married. She was married. She was married.

Repeated as a mantra to keep her heart caged, to still her thoughts, and keep her traitorous eyes from wandering passed his eyes. 

He might have won this battle but Richard was as far from her as he could ever be.


End file.
